The Ska Ralla sensors began to blare. Doctor Artifice looked at Kane, and smiled. "What, another of your tricks? Pah, you are a pissant at best. Juggernaut! Escort this man to the prison. The private one. And deprive him of oxygen for a while. Let him hallucinate."
Kane, his jaw clamped shut by the Juggernaut's massive hand, was led down the hallway. Doctor Artifice looked at the body of Mioki. While she was still alive, the pain she was in did not allow her to speak. "Hmm. Kane's cuts are too rough. Too...coarse. Very well! The parts are unusable. Dump her into the garbage scowl!" A set of robotic hands descended from the rafters of the medical hall, and moved Mioki to a large hermetically sealed pod filled to the brim with human remains, each grotesquely dismembered. "And throw her fianc? in there with her. She deserves that much!" And with that, he left, laughing.
Moving to a kiosk, Artifice discovered that a very large object, perhaps a system or two away, was heading towards the station. The Planet Scar was being charged, in an attempt to alter the course of the object before it would be too late. However, the cloaking device, using up over 70% of the station's energy, was beginning to fail. Typing in a few codes, Artifice ordered the ship to shut down the unimportant systems of the Ska Ralla; life support, energy barriers, communications, and lighting. Leaving the Workshoppe, he entered his private sanctum, where he was greeted by the sight of his beloved Fiona.
One fatal flaw with the Ska Ralla’s Juggernauts is that while on the Ralla they relied on constant transmissions. Transmissions sent by the communications on the Ralla, which had been recently shut down to gather energy for the Planet Scar. Thus, with the power shunted elsewhere, Dark Star suddenly found his ‘escort’ not moving after him. A few moments of experimentation revealed that the beast was not responding at all. It took a few moments for Dark Star to mull over the implications of this, and in the end he decided to wreak a bit of revenge.
By the time Dark Star moved on, the Juggernaut had been kicked into an unidentifiable lump of flesh and metal. Blood splattered over the walls, ceiling, and pooled on the floor. While it didn’t really do anything, it made Dark Star feel just a tad better. However, he didn’t spend a great deal of time gloating over his minor victory. There were things to be done.
Within the prison cells, Pops, Rick, and Jay sat. Just sat. With the doors locked and little left to them save clothing, there wasn’t much to do anymore. The communicator still trying desperately to reach something outside the Ska Ralla as the two men waited for something to happen. And sure enough, something did; the door opened. A look of surprise crossed all their faces when they noticed it was not Artifice or one of his Juggernauts at the door, but rather Dark Star.
“Knock knock. The door’s open.” Dark Star continued his smile, despite his arms still limp at his sides.
“Here, you might want these.” Dark Star shrugged off a small satchel and kicked it towards the two men. Flechete Pistols had been dropped in it, the ones the men had been relieved of at the Veranda. A quick check found all three fully loaded and still in working order. Dark Star, however, was beginning to walk away at this point.
“Julius!” Pops called after the robed, and now somewhat bloodstained man.
Dark Star turned around and looked at Pops, now loosely holding the pistol in one hand.
“Yes?”
“What was the screaming?” Dark Star considered this for a moment.
“Nothing of any consequence to us. It served my own purposes well enough.” He continued walking away, calling over his shoulder, “Head for the escape pod. I think this station is about to become a little flatter.”
Jay rang out next. “And where are you going?”
“Medical bay. I want my arms back.”
Dark strode across the hallway and out around a corner, disappearing from sight.
It took a moment for Dark Star to get the emergency kiosk working again. This particular piece of equipment still had power and was his only hope of getting his arms back to normal. Of course, to do that he had to have a surgeon. Nobody else on this station could or was qualified to, so he had to go outside.
Working very delicately and with slowed motions, he typed away at the keyboard to access the communications array on the Ska Ralla. While broken, he could still use his arms to some degree. Any normal person would have passed out from pain by now, however the Phantoms were anything but normal.
After an agonizing eternity, Dark Star could connect to the outside. He sent a simple message, broadcast on an open frequency.
“- CO, I think I need a medic.”
After that was away, Dark Star stumbled into the workshoppe and lay on one of the tables. It was only a matter of time before a quiet tinkling was heard.
“Over here, Crystal.” The tinkling moved and a quiet whisper seeped from the intercoms.
“Boss? That you? What happened?”
Dark Star sighed. “Long story short, I got kidnapped and they broke my arms. I need you to fix them.”
There was a pause before the AI spoke again. “I can try. It’s hard enough to access this system just to talk. I’m not sure I can…”
“Use your full processing power. Let the Slayers on the Oblivion deal with everything else for a while.” Dark Star closed his eyes, the smile once again removed from his face.
Oni was silent again for a moment. Then the tools began to move, cleaning, numbing, and finally beginning the long process of reconstruction. What little anesthesia there was didn’t work entirely, so Dark Star just grit his teeth and did his best not to scream as the blades cut into his flesh in order to repair the damage to his arms. He kept up a mantra in his head; “Doctor Artifice will pay. Doctor Artifice will pay. Doctor Artifice will pay. Doctor Artifice will pay…”
This is the real true story of rock and roll; it was not about anything more then, how to live your life, as a gangster, in sartorial splendor, and turning the world into a place where normality would never return again...- Malcolm McLaren
Jay looked at the flechette, then at Reggie.
"Come on then guys lets move, no point hanging round here. Mal, just watch our asses will ya."
They moved out of the cell trying to remember the route to the shuttle bay.
"Be nice if someone signposted the way in this damn maze. Enough now Mal please."
The group moved out.
"If I recall." said Pops. "The yellow markers on the floor lead the way from the bay, maybe just follow those."
"Works for me." Jay looked down and moved towards the arrows.
The third turn in the corridor opened out into a larger area with 3 Juggernauts standing in front of the other
exit. Fortunately facing away from the trio. Jay backed up quickly.
Peering round the edge again, the monsters appeared to not have moved an inch.
"Well Julius made it to us, so maybe they have a comms problem. Only one way to find out."
Jay just leapt out and ran towards the one at the rear. The flechette coughed once. The shell on leaving the
barrel, split into a cluster of razor sharp miniature disks of tritanium carbon composite. The range was close
enough that a massive percentage connected with the back of the juggernauts head at just over two thousand
feet per second.
The result was pretty spectacular. Most of the appendage dissolved into sections and leapt away in all directions.
The lumbering beast toppled slowly over, taking one of the others with it. The third just remained unmoving.
"Think we got lucky guys, they seem to be inert at the moment. Just incase though, I'll up the stakes on the
armament, hang on there."
He put the flechette into his pocket and removed a composite hunting knife secreted in one of his boots.
He went to work on the hand holding the shoulder mounted assault cannon carried by the dead juggernaut.
"Bit of a touch of overkill, just hope I can hold the bastard. Ok move it up now, lets get on."
Jay popped two more flechette rounds at the remaining heads.
Wouldn't want these buggers coming back to life on us would we. Hell Pops, wheres Mal gone ?"
Reggie turned to see he was on his own.
"He was with me a moment ago, though I have to say his mind was elsewhere. Ah well lets wish him luck
on his own endeavours shall we, and remove ourselves in one piece. My mind is more on the fate of our
female companions at this time."
"Reggie old chap, we both know we can't take the Doc down on our own. Better to escape in one piece and
return with the odds a little more in our favour. Anyway I'm betting he'll let no more harm come to them
for a while. Lets get the word out of here, and hope old Julius can do the same. Mal I suspect is working
on something too now."
Jay picked up the large rifle, noting thankfully the bipod was still mounted under the barrel. No way in Sirius
was he going to fire that from the shoulder. Juggernaut he wasn't.
Two more minutes, and the trail led them to the large docking bay, Jay crept up to the corner and peered
gingerly round. Three more Juggs at attention barred the way to the pod.
He pulled back, and removed the detachable lazer sight from the gun and carefully painted a target on
each of the shoulders of the waiting guard.
He returned the sight to the waiting rifle sitting on its bipod, laid down and checked the computing.
From the cover of the corridor, he pulled the trigger three times. The rocket propelled shells left the barrel,
turned the corner and streaked across the bay connecting with their targets.
Death was instantaneous, the explosive projectiles removing the right shoulders with arms holding weapons
and most of the chest.
"Strike." Yelled Jay. "Now lets get to that pod, and hold the fort till we know who else is joining us."
He picked up the rifle and they both ran for the waiting craft.
"If my fishing gear has been damaged down there in the villa Reg, there is going to be effin' hell to pay." ...
Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."
Malaclypse had decided some time ago that Fiona and Jessica would be relatively safe, provided they were removed from the Station in time. The fact that they had been sequestered by Artifice in his private quarters indicated that there were further plans for them. Artifice might be totally around the bend, but Mal had noted a remote hint of familiar care and emotions in his ramblings.
Jay and Pops were armed, and it appeared that, no pun intended, Julius Kane was attempting to regain the use of his arms as well. Rick Deckard was standing by, ready to move out as well. They would either find and collect the women, and make it to the escape shuttle with them, realize that time was too short to rescue the women and escape in the shuttle themselves; or, they would all be a little less three-dimensional in a very short time, courtesy of Shamus and Bora Bora.
Mal was not used to having certain of his resources denied him. He was also very loathe of having all their very fragile eggs in Artifices single basket. Alternate plans had been made, and he had dropped back behind Pops, Rick and Jay in order to implement them. He headed in the general direction of the shuttle bay, as indicated by the arrows Pops had noticed earlier; but his steps diverted when he say a closed hatch with the words Wartung Fach stenciled on it. He entered the small compartment, and noticed two things, both very good:
First, Artifice had not totally excluded the human element in this land of grotesque Golems. There were still several pressure suits hanging in lockers in the compartment. He grabbed and hurriedly donned one.
And, the compartment also contained a second hatch, which led to an airlock. The old maintenance crews would have prepared and exited the Station from that lock to perform repairs on the Ska Rallas exterior.
Mal checked the gauge for the locks internal pressure. It was equalized with the station. Checking the pressure and air supply for his own suit a second time, he quickly stepped into and closed the interior hatch of the airlock. He slammed the mushroom button which would evacuate the air in the lock, and as soon as the attendant light was green, he activated the outer hatch.
The glare from the twin suns of 49 blinded him for a brief moment, after the weak emergency lighting of the Station. It took half a minute for his eyes to adjust. He was finally able to squint into the distance, hoping against hope for a sign of the arrangements he had made. He scanned the quadrant of space visible through the lock frantically; and then, his heart leapt with joy. At a distance of perhaps half a kilometer and closing, he saw three craft: A Sabre, a Chimaera, and a Ravens Talon in close formation. The formation came rapidly closer, and Mal noticed that the hatch on the Sabre had already begun to openoffering a view of an empty cockpit. His target.
The airlock was still in the Stations full gravity field, and Mal imagined the field would extend for a few meters outside the lock as well. He bent his knees, and allowed himself to tip forward gradually until his head was aligned with the waiting Sabre. He made his best guess, and pushed off, trying to maintain his orientation as he floated slowly but steadily in the general direction of his target.
He noticed that his lunge had taken him to the left of his intended target, but that Discordia had already corrected her own trajectory, and was waiting nonchalantly in exactly the right spot, like a professional catcher waiting for a pop foul.
Just as he was approaching the Killer Dis, his eyes were blinded once again by a searing light. Fortunately the source of the light was behind him and off to the right somewhat. The Planet Scar weapon had been fired once again from the Ska Ralla, in a desperate attempt to deflect, destroy, or perhaps cleave the oncoming planetoid in pieces. Mal did not have time to view the results of the discharge, as he was then floating head first into the cockpit of the Killer Dis. As he scrambled to right himself in the cockpit, the hatch had already closed and sealed, and the air pressure inside was building to accommodate the new passenger.
He looked quickly at a chronometer on the dash, which was also flashing the Bora Boras estimated time to impact. Even though the planet was now visible to the naked eye, the size of a thumb held at arms length, there were still eighteen minutes before Shamus Snooker skills would be apparent, or not.
*Well, boss.. No howdy-do or kiss my orb or anything? Such gratitude! I could have let you flop about outside for awhile, you know, just for giggles.*
I shall lavish praise on you all later, Dis. At the moment, I suggest we all make for the far side of Planet Feurteventura, just in case there may be some resultant shrapnel the size of small continents flying about shortly!
*You got it, Mal. F-Troop! Move out!*
*Merci to Mal: Any sign of Beau on board? Hes a bastard, but I still care for him!*
I do not know, Merci. We heard screams after we were incarcerated, but they were definitely female. Beau may still be alive on that floating charnel house. I cant be sure. Dis, whats the word form Shamus?*
*No probs, Mal. The burn data came in a bit after his imposed deadline, but hes fairly confident that hes gotten us a piece of the Ska Ralla at least. Theyre lifting off the planetoid now, and will head for Gran Canaria. He should be able to see his handiwork before they reach docking orbit.*
Very well. We cant do a thing about Shamus aim. What we can and will do is monitor the Ska Ralla for anything and everything that leaves it. Jay, Rick and Pops are free as well, and are either linking up with Julius, Fiona and Jessica; or, are headed for the escape shuttle. In any event, theyre running out of time quite rapidly, and we must be prepared to assist if needed. I just hope Reggie is listening to his brain, rather than his heart at the moment. If not, hopefully Jay and Julius can knock some bloody sense into him!
If the Ska Ralla should miraculously survive, we shall become its devoted shadow. I dont know if this Artifice is insane enough to go down with his ship. I prefer to believe that he has other program directives that include keeping Fiona and Jessica alive. Im getting out of this stinking bloody pressure suit. Whistle if you see anything at all!
As the men arrived at the escape pod, they were greeted by both a strange sound and a stranger sight. The sound was a woman wailing, her cries echoing about noisily in the compact space. The sight was Fiona hunched over, hands over her eyes, with tears streaming through the gaps between her fingers. Jessica patted her adopted mother gently, her eyes staring at nothing in particular, simply unfocused.
Looking up at the sound of the pod's doors opening, Fiona quickly wiped her eyes clean. "Well? What took you so long?" she asked, her voice wavering. She tried to smile, but it was clear that something traumatic had occurred, and it simply turned into something of a grimace. Her eyes were red, and what remained of her makeup was smeared over the path of the tears.
Reggie looked at his beloved little girl. She was a wreck; her regal silk robes were torn and bloodied, her hair was in disarray, and her face was a mess. He sat down beside her, and silently hugged her. This did nothing but cause her to erupt into another fountain of tears.
Jay, on the other hand, wasn't as compassionate. "Well? What are you crying about?" he asked gruffly, the rifle now set on the floor of the escape pod. Reggie glared at Jay, a looked that said to shut up and be seated. Shaking his head in defeat, Jay sat down and began to admire the craftsmanship of the gun he had used to destroy the Juggernauts.
Jessica ended her reverie, and looked around. "We're missing two," she stated. Fiona did a silent headcount, and nodded that indeed, two were missing. "That Phantom and the man in the red dinner jacket."
"After five minutes, if we can't find them, we leave," Fiona blandly said, her voice resolute and cold. "Five minutes, and we launch." The look she gave each man sitting in the pod showed that there would be no extensions, and that there would certainly be no questioning her decision.
Jay looked at the rifle, he'd worked out some of the features early on. The smart shell operation was stunning,
he had one or two acquaintances in the SiN|Tech Corporation who would literally kill for this technology.
He stood up, turned and addressed Fiona
"Madam Ambassador, while I'm sure we all applaud your efforts in the past to bring peace to Sirius, though
futile as they have been up till now. This really is not a good time to be setting time frames on our jumping
out of the frying pan into the fire, so to speak."
Jay turned to the open door and took a couple of steps before speaking again.
"You and your family appear to be the target in all of of this madness, and while I am yet to fully comprehend
your involvement, things are becoming a little clearer. And I'm sure Reggie here has been a little economic
with the truth as well."
He left the pod, returning a short while later carrying three black boxes.
"Reggie, make your self useful and stash these extra magazines, never have enough ammo as far as I'm
concerned ... Bloody pull yourself together man."
Jay turned to leave again
"Madam, how about you aswell, I know you are a good pilot. Familiarizing yourself with the controls of this
craft would be a great help, as I'm sure we will be needing it in the not to distant future anyway."
I shall be as quick as I can in aiding our current, if not surprising, allies in this ... If it starts to blow, I suspect
you will be leaving without us anyway."
Jay ran out of the door again, the statement hanging in the air ...
Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."
For the last few hours Rick behaved just like a body with no soul. He was quiet, he was doing what he was told and he therefore occupied noone's attention. He felt desperate. He came to Veranda to run away from all those bad things that happened to him in the past hoping to relax and put himself together a bit. He was not prepared for the appearance of such an evil so close and all what happened next. Well, he's been through a lot before, but cutting a living woman into pieces while laughing...
He even didn't recognise that there is a chance to get out of that bloody station alive and just followed the others to the escape pods. Does he have anything to live for? But then he felt that strange itching on his temples again. "That's not possible..." he talked to himself. It appeared again... ~... Rick? ...~. He jerked himself, started to recover and looked around.
Jay was running out and back while bringing some black boxes. He looked like he could use a hand. Rick stood up and followed him. Rick's itching disappeared but he had the feeling he's needed somewhere else at the moment. He needs to get out of here as soon as possible.
"Fiona, please. If we're to help, we need to know how you managed to escape." said Reggie, as he studied the flight controls of the small shuttle/pod. "Jessica, do you read Rheinlandic as well? We may need someone to mind the other systems while your Mother and I learn to fly this blasted thing.
"Jay and Kane both know that time is growing short. The will do as they feel they must.
"Rick, please take an inventory of what's aboard, and if there's time see what can be scavenged from the near passages. Fiona, I agree with your estimate of time. The systems on this station have discharged and recharged at least twice, so I'm assuming our little flyswatter is about to arrive shortly. Please, dear, help me translate these controls. And thank the Blessed Goddess you are both still alive!"
Jessica spoke up, addressing the questions of Pops. "I've already deciphered it all: no point in trying to change the course. Preset, entirely. See this hub?" She pointed at a large bulbous device at the far end of the shuttle. "That's our pilot. No way to disconnect it from this thing at all, either. This shuttle can go 126,000 miles per second; only a bit under the 186,000 mps that light can achieve. No human, or even those android pilots like Dis or Sophie could hope to pilot it. Only light and a ship in a jump hole or gate are going faster than this thing. And at that speed... there's no way a sensor could pick it up.
"Also, what happened with the late Doctor Alexiander deLuna is of no concern to you all. So please, drop it. We'll tell you when we're ready...whenever that may be. If ever. Until then, do not make mention of it again, please."
A small robot emerged from behind Jessica. It was a sphere that propelled itself by a form of gravitational pulse, and so was suspended above the ground. A screen dominated a length of the sphere, and it had a face on it. A nice, old, smiling face. "Why, hello there! I'm named the GFK-14F50.7 "General deSicev" model of tactical adviser machine. I am able to speak in ten languages, have been updated with the greatest of--"
"Knock it off, deSicev!" Jessica said abruptly. The sphere's face became abashed. It hovered near the feet of its master.
"I was only introducing myself, Madam Jessica! It is considered polite!"
Picking up the rifle, Jessica fired a bullet into the robot's shell. After the initial shock had gone away, and a string of curses from Jay had ended, the robot was still there! "It's considered polite to be able to be destroyed, deSicev," she replied. The robot looked sheepishly about, and hid behind her back again. Reggie was about to speak when Fiona raised a finger.
"There will be the time to explain later. We have three minutes. Three. Let's pray out allies get here soon."
"Are there any more masks that need to be removed as we face imminent compaction here??
"It would appear that we're now taking orders from a 16 year old. I would normally ask for a few more paticulars before kowtowing to a grimey teenager, let alone one I've just met for the first time.
"Fiona, this begins to wear on credibility, as well as the sensibilities. Is there a reason in Thud you are now apparently taking orders from your "daughter" as well?"
Fiona looked up. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But, seeing as how there is nothing more to do, I will indulge you. But, you must promise not to be angry with her."
After getting a general promise that there would be no persecution, she continued. "She is not my daughter. She is my aunt. Recreated by my true grandfather, who we will meet after launching. Unless your projectile hits us first...which seems to be what will occur. Unless we leave soon. But I promise you, there is no reason to fear. She is no enemy."
Looking at the looks on the mens' faces, she went on. "My family was massacred over 20 years ago. As a part of the Rheinland experiment, my grandfather recorded the personalities of each one. The day before the...accident...no less. Anyways, from what Doctor Artifice told me a few minutes ago, my actual grandfather cloned them, and transferred their, as Freud called it, their egos to the cloned beings. Little Jessica here is one of them, although a newer edition. Only 16 years old, but with the memories of a lifetime...or two.
"There is no way for me to expect you to believe this, but I cannot fathom lying to you now. A man I thought to be my grandfather just died in there, after telling me that he was but one of many clones of Alexiander Molochov deLuna. So I cannot ask any more than to simply believe me now, and to bear with her. She is far more adept at guiding us at a time like this than I, or even any of you. No offense, but it is the truth."
20 minutes previous...
It had not been long since the chorus of screaming and laughing had come to an end that Fiona and Jessica were graced with a visit from their host. Fiona, still bleeding slightly, sat straight up. She would not give this thing the pleasure of seeing her in pain.
Doctor Artifice looked at her, and tutted. "My dear, the Maker's daughter should not be in pain." Moving to her, he removed a spool of course black thread, and began to sew Fiona's side up! Jessica flinched, but was unable to do anything. Closing her eyes at the sight of her adopted mother being operated on by this fiend, Jessica looked away.
Fiona spoke now, her teeth clenched hard. "The Maker's daughter? What, being your granddaughter doesn't cut it any more?" Artifice looked at her, and smiled. "Don't smile at me, monster! Despite what you may say, I am not related to you!"
The old man looked at her, and smiled broader. "I am not related to you, Maker's daughter! Just as you are not the Maker's daughter, but the Maker's Son's Daughter. Lacking the Son, you are now the Daughter of the Maker. Does it make sense?"
Fiona looked at him, more confused than before. Was this not Doctor Artifice, the raving madman who was her grandfather...?
"Don't get me wrong, Little One. I *am* Doctor Artifice. But I am not Professor Alexiander Molochov deLuna. He is the Maker; Doctor Artificer. As I am the Made, He is the Maker." To emphasis his point, Artifice reached over to the table and withdrew a long letter opener. Using it, he slashed across the length of his forearm. Strangely enough, despite the horrendous gash, no blood escaped. "See? I am nothing more than a clone. One of many, and many of One. We are enigmatic, I suppose. But I am no different than...say...your beloved daughter? She was a true Daughter of the Maker...in a past life. Now, she is no different than I!" He threw the opener at Jessica, who screamed as the knife embedded itself into her arm.
Fiona screamed, too, as the lights went out. Running over to her daughter, withdrawing the knife, she stepped back. Her mouth was contorted in shock. There was indeed a puncture wound that went clear through the bone and into the other side of the chair, and yet there was no blood, no twitch of pain, nothing. Jessica was entirely fine. Doctor Artifice laughed.
"See? There is the proof that I am not lying! She is a clone from the Ska Jaktar. The Dyson Sphere of epic proportions. I think that we must go there, after this stupid rock gets blasted out of the proverbial sky."
Beckoning Fiona and Jessica to the Workshoppe, Doctor Artifice showed them the maps and information concerning the Ska Jaktar. Unknown to the three, a prisoner of Artifice's, one that had been on board for over 5 years, was sneaking up behind them, the letter opener held high above his head...
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